Dance
by RachelFuckingDuncan
Summary: Rachel takes Sarah to a party. Was just a small one-shot based on an audio post but I have started writing more. Just T for now but will probably be M later.
1. I

"Rachel, what the hell is this?"

"This my dear Sarah" she replied in a voice thick with condescension "is a party."

"Looks like a super fun party." Sarah returned with sarcasm to match as she glared around the ballroom.

Rachel's floor length black velvet evening gown fitted the occasion perfectly. Waiters in bow ties and waistcoats fluttered like small glossy birds between the swarms of people populating the enormous room.

"Glad I made you dress up?"

Sarah looked down at the navy lace dress she had borrowed off her clone.

"And _I _just thought you were trying to get me to look like a total knob head."

Rachel chuckled.

"Amazingly not Sarah," she leaned close to her ear, "I think you look beautiful."

Sarah turned to face her, her brow crinkling with scepticism but it seemed Rachel was not joking. In fact she was smiling. Her smile was open and honest and so very happy. Unused to anything but Rachel's normal stern manner, the smile disarmed Sarah, she couldn't help but stare.

"Oh do stop gaping I can be nice, here have some champagne!" Rachel gracefully snatched a glass from a nearby waiter and pressed it into Sarah's hand.

Though she would never admit it, Sarah was sort of mesmerised. If not by the glittering glass chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling then definitely by Rachel. Sarah followed her across the room towards large French windows which led to a marble patio. It was filled with couples all swaying to the music coming from a band at one side.

Rachel watched her date (not that she thought Sarah would ever admit it) sipping her drink. Turning around she surveyed the garden and could not help but note the abundance of tall shrubbery perfect for stealing quick kisses.

"Hey Duncan" Sarah looked over, a mischievous glint in her eye, "wanna dance?"

Rachel took her outstretched arm and pulled her in close as they made their way onto the dance floor.


	2. II

II

It was only when the sun set that Sarah realised they had been there for hours. What was more, she could not even dance, yet, with Rachel holding her she had forgotten about all that and responded to every touch.

"Would you like to get something to eat?" Rachel's burning caress of a voice whispered in Sarah's ear. It was a few seconds before she realised this new music demanded a response. Sarah nodded and was sorry to feel Rachel's body press away from her's. Rachel lead her over to a set of fancy sofas and within seconds seemed to have summoned a waiter leaden with a selection of brightly coloured mouthfuls. Sarah ate, all the time watching Rachel chatter to the people around her. She was glamorous and confident and Sarah could not help but notice the familiar edge of fear that clung to anyone trying to converse with Rachel Duncan. She introduced Sarah a couple of times, but Sarah had no idea to whom.

"You alright Sarah?" Rachel shot her a concerned glance.

"You know me, I'm a survivor." She tried to grin.

That usual smirk played across Rachel's lips, but for once Sarah did not feel like she was being laughed at, instead she was being included. She could see the cogs moving behind those eyes: Rachel was scheming.

"I'd rather you weren't merely surviving Manning." She winked as she said her second name and Sarah felt her stomach flip and in that instance she felt she would follow Rachel wherever she asked her to go.

"As you made it clear earlier, this isn't your _ideal_ party"

"Maybe" replied Sarah biting her lip whilst grinning at her date.

"So…" Rachel moving her eyes from Sarah's face to her phone "we could go somewhere else." It was a statement not a question.

Rachel looked back towards her, but her eyes slipped over Sarah's shoulder as if searching for something. Without making eye contact she moved closer until she was inches away "Ready to run?"

Her breath made Sarah's neck tingle.

"Yes."

Rachel took one last glance over Sarah's shoulder then she took her clone's hand.

"Come on then Sarah Manning."

They stood up and wove their way fast through the crowd towards the lawn. Once they hit it Rachel began to run dragging Sarah along with her. They scampered through the greenery dodging flower beds. They were as ridiculous as they were beautiful, their tall heels making them sway perilously as they ran. They carried on sprinting, panting and giggling as they came within view of a low wall.

"Sarah" Rachel had stopped and turned.

"Rachel?" Sarah could see something new in her eyes. They always looked alive, if not icy, but something else moved in the depths, like a dragon awakening in the dark.

The proclone took a tentative step towards the punk. The air between them seemed to shudder. Sarah lent forward. Their lips met. The kiss was soft.

"Wait." Rachel's voice cut the air as they split apart breathing heavily "not now." She reluctantly pulled her hand away from its comfortable position on Sarah's waist.

She flung her clutch over the low wall and followed pulling her stunned clone along behind her.

They made their way across a road to a long black car. Sarah's insides twisted. The taste of Rachel's lips clung to her own. There was a side of her mind that desperately wanted to lose itself to the sensations the had felt, yet dark windowed cars would never fail to make her anxious.

She raised her eyebrows as Rachel tapped on the door.

"Come on, trust me," Rachel turned to Sarah, looking her dead in the eye "I just ditched my monitor, now come with me." There was a new tone of reassurance in her voice, she was determined. She reached for her hand, again cautiously, and stroked Sarah's wrist. Something swelled in Rachel's eyes, a mournful look, as if trying to apolgise for all her employers had done; sins of the fathers, or creators more like. The proclone smiled softly and Sarah could not help but grin quietly to herself as she followed Rachel into the back seat.


	3. III

III

"Evening Rach," a deep Yorkshire accent came from the chauffeur behind a partition as they relaxed back onto broad leather seats, "to the usual?"

"Yes, thank you Henry."

The comfort of the car made Sarah realise how chilly she had been outside. She settled back into her seat and would have admired the fancy upholstery of her surroundings if it were not for the woman beside her. Every meeting with the corporate clone was a roller coaster ride. Yet dizzying as it always was, Sarah got on every time. She traced her eyes over her clone's form. Rachel had such presence, she seemed so firm and solid but that kiss... That kiss had been soft and gentle. Sarah felt she could have melted into that kiss, they could have melted together, mingling like the shadows that they were.

Rachel had felt it too, the comfort in the delicacy of that touch, her lips against Sarah's. As she settled into her seat her body hummed, a reverberation from Sarah's brief touch. There would be time for that later.

She reached forward and pulled a suitcase towards her.

"Here Sarah, find something you're happy to go clubbing in."

Sarah opened the case to reveal over a dozen dresses. "Are you mad?"

"Only prepared." Rachel replied taking one from the top pocket and unzipping her own evening gown.

Sarah watched with a dumbfounded expression as Rachel began to swiftly change dresses.

"Stop gaping punk rock hoe, hang your dress on this." said Rachel pressing a hanger into her hands.

Sarah closed her mouth and tried to focus on choosing a dress, trying to put the fact that Rachel was stripping right next to her out of her mind. She managed to find a little back dress with leather panels which was surprisingly to her taste.

"Also, I think your brother would agree a change of make-up is also required." Rachel nodded her head towards a make-up bag on the seat beside her.

Sarah tried to focus on her dress and make-up, but the more she tried to ignore it, the more aware she became of Rachel's presence. She was reclining in a deep purple satin dress, gazing out the window. She was silent and serene, clearly giving Sarah time to get ready, space too. However, Sarah knew she did not want space, not at all.

The car drew to a halt.

"We're here Miss Duncan."

Sarah waited expectantly on the pavement, scanning the narrow road they had arrived at as Rachel leaned towards the front windows of the car.

"Thank you again Henry."

"No problem, have fun." Sarah could not help but note the playful undercurrent to his closing remark.

"So?" Sarah wobbled in her heels.

"This way." Rachel grabbed Sarah's arm and pulled her along the road. The skin prickled under her grip.

She led her along the pavement towards some plain metal doors. Noise pulsated from behind them. Rachel opened the door and nodded to a bouncer who gestured for them to go in.

"A gay club, you're kidding me?"

"Amazingly not Sarah." The familiar sarcasm dripped with attitude and made Sarah's gut twinge: she wanted her. The thought had been growing in her mind all evening, like water seeping underneath a door, yet now she was knee deep, the feeling was unavoidable.

They had made their way to a bar and promptly downed a few shots before Sarah could properly process the change of setting. That was if processing was what she was doing; her brain seared. Every touch caused small fireworks to ripple out in bullseyes from where Rachel's fingertips landed. As they danced closer her whole body seemed to throb as Rachel pressed herself against her. The proclone was in her element. It was clear that Rachel fitted there with the abundance of predatory gays and the 90s dance classics. Even the unique tang of the air seemed like a variant of Rachel's perfume. The dark corridors and boxy maze of rooms was just an echo of Rachel's standard power-suit cuts. The proclone both reflected and magnified her environment but equally it amplified her. She was everywhere. The air itself tasted of her, thrust its way down Sarah's throat, into her lungs and blood. All Sarah could feel was the body against her and the pounding beat in her ears.


End file.
